Facing Winter
The silky afternoon sun
Bathed the river
In silver streaks.
From tree lined banks
Fading leaves turning brown
Gave up and fell
Like soldiers going over the top.
Climbing up cast iron trunks
Ivy crept,
Choking their hosts
Alder and Sycamore,
It didn’t care which.
Weeping willow,
And white willow,
Lining the bank fared better.
Survival of the fittest
Prevailing over God’s plan.
The beauty of wild nature
Raw, ugly, brutal,
Far removed from
Manicured country parks
Late autumn,
Preparing for winter
And survival.
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